


Crowbar

by Talesmaniac89



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fake Love, Hurt Sam Winchester, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Sam - Freeform, Sam Winchester - Freeform, angst with happy ending, becky rosen - Freeform, bewitched relationship, false love, sam winchester false love, sam winchester hexed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25858198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talesmaniac89/pseuds/Talesmaniac89
Summary: The reader is shocked out of her happy existence when she learns that her boyfriend, Sam, has married another woman. Based on ep. 07x08 where Sam marries Becky
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Becky Rosen, Sam Winchester/You
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Song inspiration: I Know - Fiona Apple 
> 
> Please, please, please don’t think that I don’t like Becky after reading this. I love that adorkable fangirl! But this wouldn’t work if the reader shared those feelings Oo
> 
> Y/N = Your name Y/E/C = Your eye colour

Sam had gone missing. It wasn’t like him to be gone for four days like this. Not without telling Dean. At least not without letting you know. Sure, your relationship wasn’t normal. You’d never have the whole marriage, two kids and picket fence kind of life. But you loved each other, and he wouldn’t leave like this without at least checking in once in a while. So when Dean called you, telling you to leave the motel room in Vegas and come down to the small chapel, you jumped in your car no questions asked. The minute you heard Sam’s name nothing else mattered anymore. In your hurry to get there the pained edge of Dean’s voice barely registered with you.

It wasn’t until you got to the small chapel on the Vegas strip that you finally slowed down enough to take in the situation. The words you’d cut Dean off from finishing playing on repeat in your head as you went to push open the door. “(Y/N), there… There’s something you should know…” God how you wished you’d let him finish before you hurried down there. The doors to the tacky little Vegas chapel seemed ominous now that you didn’t know what hid behind them. Vegas chapels didn’t do funerals did they? This wasn’t just some cruel joke was it? No, Dean would’ve told you. Even if you hung up he would’ve called back. And Sam would have a hunter’s funeral anyway, not something like this.

Forcing yourself to leave the memory of Dean’s half finished words and pained voice behind you took the steps up to the door two at a time before heading into the marble hallway towards the chapel. A completely different thought hitting you as your hand rested against the white wooden door. An image sneaking into your mind of Sam standing nervously by the altar waiting for you… Oh no, you definitely wouldn’t let yourself go there… You’d been together for a few years, sure. But even Sam wouldn’t plan something as cheesy as a surprise Vegas wedding.

You were probably just crashing some wedding to save a poor innocent girl from marrying some evil creature or something. Shaking away the silly thoughts, you opened the door feeling a little more positive as to what was waiting inside. But the moment the door flew open your positive thoughts came crashing down again, your whole world following shortly behind.

Sam was indeed standing by the altar, alive and well. But it wasn’t you who were standing next to him. No, it was one Becky Rosen. Decked up in a white wedding dress that looked more like a creampuff than a dress. Freezing momentarily, you could only stand weakly by, watching as the man you loved swore himself to another woman. Your mouth opening and closing soundlessly in wordless objections as you felt your world spin out of control. The colours of the gaudy room mixing together as the corner of your vision turned black. The world tilting dangerously as you heard the bored man standing in front of the painted backdrop pronounce Sam, _your_ Sam, and Becky husband and wife.

As your legs failed under you and you sunk to the floor you met the eyes of Dean. His eyes widening slightly before pain and pity filled them as he looked from you to his brother and his new sister-in-law. The last thing you saw before your vision went black was Dean leaving his brother’s side to hurry towards you. This couldn’t be happening; it was some sick, twisted joke. Or a nightmare, yeah… It had to be a nightmare.

—

“(Y/N)! Open your eyes,” You couldn’t have been out for more than five minutes before Dean shook you back awake. Your muddled mind needing no more than a second to remember the pain of what you’d just seen as Sam and his new wife came into view over Dean’s shoulder.

“Why?” Was all you managed to say, your voice weaker than you wanted it to be as the pain of Sam’s betrayal of your love left you breathless. How could he do this to you? Just four days ago he’d kissed you goodbye before heading out to clear his head. You figured he’d be back in a day or two. Not as a newly married man with the way too clingy Becky Rosen on his arms. No, not Becky Rosen… She was a Winchester now. You didn’t even notice the tears until the slightly salty flavour hit your lips. Sam’s eyes held regret and guilt where they were still visible in your tear-blurred vision.

“I’m sorry (Y/N). It… It just kind of happened,” You were on your feet before Sam had a chance to say any more. You didn’t want to hear it. You didn’t want to believe he loved someone else. You couldn’t stand one more moment of watching Becky cling to him, to _your_ boyfriend, like that. The pitying look in her eyes sickening you as you shot up and turned on your heel running aimlessly out of the claustrophobic chapel. The white doors slamming behind you, you ran away from the nightmare that had replaced your happy existence. Cutting off Dean’s worried voice and Sam’s explanation.

No, no, no… It wasn’t true. Your sneakers slapped against the marble as you hurried outside. The steady rhythm of rubber against marble echoing your objections with every hurried step away from the nightmare behind you. The minute you hit the hot air outside you doubled over, heaving as your body tried to rid itself of the awful images. But no release came. Only tears of shock and indescribable pain left your body as you stood still. The world around you loosing its colour as you tried to will it all away, to forget the whole shitty day had happened.

You didn’t know how long you’d been standing there before Dean’s hand rested softly between your shoulder blades. The soft touch pulling you back into a world you weren’t ready to face. “Wh... Why?” Was all you managed to say. Your head turning slightly as you kept your hands resting on your thighs. Unable to stand up straight in case the world would start tilting again when you did.

“I don’t know kid, but it’s not love. I know it’s not. Sammy loves you, please believe that,” Dean’s words offered little to no consolation as the images of the poofy white and pink hell you’d just experienced kept replaying in your mind. “Something isn’t right here, and we’ll get to the bottom of it,”

—

You’d let Dean walk you away from the awful building that housed the man you loved and his new wife and into a bar close by. Close enough so that you didn’t have to walk too far on shaky legs, but far enough away that the chance of running into Mr and Mrs Winchester was slim.

Your shaky hand was wrapped in a vice like grip around the small tumbler glass, making the honey coloured liquid slosh slightly against the sides of the glass and onto your whitening knuckles. Dean had been quiet since you got in, watching you with pity in his eyes whilst you tried to drink away the memories. Drowning your love and your heartbreak in the cheapest whiskey the place had. Emptying your glass you put it down as hard as you could. The crystal bravely withstanding your force as it hit the wooden bar top with a dull thud.

“Don’t you look at me like that Dean Winchester,” You growled, anger having finally replaced your initial shock after the first few drinks.

“Like what?” Dean asked, his tone soft. Soft with pity at poor weak (Y/N) who had lost everything she’d ever wanted in no more than a few minutes. Half an hour at most…

“Like I’m some victim you can console! Like I’m about to break apart!” You could see the other patrons at the bar throwing you annoyed glances from the corner of your eye as your voice rose, but you couldn’t care less. “”I don’t want your pity Dean,”

“We’ll fix this, I promise,” Was all Dean said. But thankfully he wiped the pained look from his eyes, focusing on the glass in his hand instead. “Sam is mad about you. Hell, I’ve never seen him as happy as he is with you. Something fishy is going on here, and we’ll get to the bottom of it. We’ll get our Sammy back,”

Dean’s words were filled with empty promises. Becky wasn’t a witch, or a siren. She was human, and no matter how much you wanted to you couldn’t kill a human. But still, you let Dean’s words calm your shattering heart a little. Waving over the bartender for a refill as Dean stayed the whole night by your side. Watching as you drank yourself asleep.

—

The next day wasn’t any better. Or the one after that for that matter. But you got through them. You let Dean lead the way as you followed numbly behind. Trying to figure out what had caused the love of your life to marry a woman he could barely stand just weeks earlier.

Following the newlyweds, God how you hated even thinking of them as that, up to their home in Delaware things became a little easier. The clear signs of something being very, very wrong grew stronger once the two unexplained deaths of some very lucky people proved that this wasn’t just some whirlwind romance with you left behind in the dust.

You even felt well enough to follow Dean over to Becky’s apartment. You couldn’t let yourself think of it as Sam’s. Not yet, not until you had at least checked the possibility of this whole thing just being some awful new way for the big baddies of the world to mess with you.

Standing behind Dean you let yourself take a few deep breaths before nodding to him signalling that he could ring the doorbell. You weren’t sure you were ready for what was waiting beyond the door. No, scratch that, you _knew_ you weren’t ready for it. But you had to be there, had to try and talk Sam out of whatever _this_ was. Your eyes focused on the large box in Dean’s arms containing the waffle iron he’d picked up as a peace offering. Your eyes didn’t leave the large red ribbon when Sam opened the door. Unable to look at the man you loved even though your body physically ached to see him, to touch him again.

Holding out the hastily bought gift Dean offered his empty congratulations. He’d warned you before hand, explaining that it was just a way of getting through the door. But the words leaving the man you saw as a brother still hurt, your throat closing up on you with unwept tears. Digging your nails into your hand you tried to regain some control as you followed Dean into the small apartment staying safely hidden behind his broad back. Barely listening to him explaining the case to his brother as your eyes wandered around the apartment. It was a nice place, the kind of place Sam and you would never have.

Becky’s interruption to Dean’s explanation was what brought you out of your stupor. The words shocking you enough for your eyes to stray to the man you loved as he proudly stood beside his… Stood beside Becky.

—

“You’re working the case? Together?” Dean voiced your thoughts as you tried to pry your eyes from the painfully proud look on Sam’s face. Blocking out their words as the discussion strayed off the safe topic of the hunt. Dean no longer acting as the supportive brother as he came straight out and accused his new sister-in-law.

You almost turned and ran back out of the apartment as Sam’s next words hit you as a slap to the face. As he stood up for the woman next to him, the woman who had rudely stolen your spot. “Dean, that’s… my wife you’re talking to,” You wanted to shut your eyes, to sob, to run away. To do anything at all. But the word _wife_ had you glued to the carpet as Sam signed your fate with a single syllable word piercing your heart.

Watching as his arm moved around her shoulder as if he was protecting her you felt like screaming. Not words, no, you were beyond the point in your little mental breakdown where words could form. Just a scream… A feral, possessive scream to make her step away from Sam. Away from _your_ boyfriend… But you couldn’t. He wasn’t yours anymore. Biting back all the words you wanted to throw at the two of them you left the yelling up to Dean. Watching him numbly to keep from focusing on the “happy couple” as he yelled as his brother for you.

“Did it ever occur to you that we’re just happy?” Becky’s words made your (Y/E/C) eyes blur with unshed tears as you turned. Focusing only on their research notes so that they couldn’t see how close you were to breaking down.

“Sam, aren’t you forgetting someone? Like, oh I don’t know… Your girlfriend?” Dean’s words made you go rigid. Your eyes burning into the articles taped to the wall in front of you as you refused to turn when you felt three pairs of eyes on you.

“I’m sorry (Y/N). I really am. But what Becky and I have is real,” Sam said from somewhere behind you as you shut your eyes to keep the tears back. Mentally slapping yourself for even thinking it was a good idea to come along. Hating the fact that you’d let yourself believe, even for a second, that seeing you would somehow shock him out of whatever was happening.

“What you have with (Y/N) is real! This… This freakshow, _this_ isn’t real,” Dean yelled, removing the pairs of eyes that were burning into your body. Grateful for his help you walked past him and towards the door. Needing to get out of the room before you suffocated. The walls felt like they were closing in on you. Shutting you inside your own personal hell with dear Mr & Mrs behind you. You needed to leave, to get out of there before you broke apart any further. Your already broken heart shattering into dust a little more with every step through your boyfriend’s new home…

But you were too slow as you stumbled along in your grief. Sam’s words reaching you from where he stood up for his new wife. The words weren’t meant for you. They were directed towards Dean and not you. But no matter how many times you told yourself that, it still felt as if it was you he was talking to. The echo of Sam’s words haunting you all the way back to the motel room. No amount of classic rock music able to drown them out as they bounced around in your broken mind.

“I don’t need you anymore,”


	2. Crowbar

_“I don’t need you,”_

You hadn’t believed you could sink lower than the moment when you saw your boyfriend marrying someone else. Your mind numbly registering it as the deepest point your pain could possibly ever reach. But as you dragged yourself through broken-hearted days as best you could. The pain was near unbearable. Bested only by the though of loosing him to something more final than the cold words that echoed through your head on repeat, shutting the world out as you slowly fell apart at the seams with every single syllable that repeated in your numb mind.

You didn’t even know how you managed to get back to the crappy motel on the outskirts of town. But somehow Dean safely managed to transfer your shell-shocked self out of the impala and into the room. Your legs refusing to work right as you forced yourself to stand upright on the short walk. Each step more painful than the one before, the pain threatened to make you double over whilst you kept the tears at bay. You were broken, possibly beyond repair, sure. But you wouldn’t let the hunter see you cry. Any recognition of your pain would only make the whole thing seem more real. Dean’s words of comfort fell on deaf ears as you sat on the motel bed. Staring at the wall in front of you until the cracks and unidentifiable stains disappeared in the darkness, and you could finally cry. Knowing your treacherous tears would be hidden by the night.

But even when dawn came around after your restless night you couldn’t shake the darkness. The short intervals of sleep between the recurring nightmares of your now married boyfriend and his new wife doing little to help calm your mind. You were ruined, broken, a shadow of your past self. Dean tried to make you eat, tried to have you come help him on the case, but to no avail.

You couldn’t bear the thought to leave the shabby motel room for longer than what it took to stock up on the only medicine you knew of that could mend a broken heart. In the end he left to investigate alone. The scene repeating endlessly as nights and days passed without you noticing.

—

In the end Bobby sent a new guy to help out with the case. A hunter named Garth. You’d never met the guy before and to be honest he didn’t seem like he was hunter material; too scrawny looking. But anything was better than you at that moment. Dean needed backup and he wasn’t going to get it from you. His words barely registering in your mind anymore as Sam’s parting words haunted you. Like an unending loop of “I don’t need you” and “She’s my wife” running constantly through your unsteady mind.

Whilst the guys tried to work the case you did the only thing you could do to deal with the pain. You drank… A lot. Whiskey, gin and vodka were your three new best friends and your new food groups all in one welcome warm package of hazy oblivion as you tried to drown Sam’s voice away in the constant flow of alcohol. But it didn’t work, not really. The pain of Sam’s betrayal as vivid in your mind both in a drunken or sober state, no obvious release offered even in your sleep. The only thing the alcohol did was numb your sense of pride enough that you could let yourself wallow in the sorrow of your loss. The tears had dried out, but in the ruins that were once your heart you still cried for what could have been.

You’d been tortured, left for dead, bit, stabbed, burned… Hell, mention a form of inflicted pain and you’d been there. But nothing had even come close to being as painful as the heartbreak of seeing the man you love place a protective arm around another woman’s shoulder. It was searing hot and ice cold at the same time, forcing all breath from your lungs as you struggled to even take the smallest of breaths. Your chest felt like it had been ripped open, crushed and stabbed all at once. And, unlike the pain of an injury during a hunt or the pain of torture, this was continuous. Never stopping or lessening as you closed yourself off from the world… The unrelenting pain crashing over you like waves, drowning out everything else.

—

Dean let you deal for a little while. But soon watching you slowly kill yourself became too much for him and he forced you back on the straight and narrow. Cutting you off from your three new BFF’s as he’d removed every trace of alcohol in the motel room and even confiscated all your cards and cash to keep you from buying more.

“Go to hell Dean,” You growled as you flinched at the sunlight that burst through the curtains. Somewhere in the back of your numb mind you wondered how many days it had been since you last saw the sun. But the thought faded as his words shook you out of your stupor. Reminding you of the most elementary thing. The one thing you’d promised yourself you’d never forget.

“Don’t you trust Sam? Believe in him, he’ll come around,” Dean’s words hadn’t miraculously removed the pain, or even gotten rid of the echoes in your head. But they’d made you pick yourself up. Changed your focus back to memories of the happy days you’d spent with Sam. You had to believe in him. You loved Sam, and deep down you were sure he loved you too.

Somehow you managed to get out of the bed and walk over to where the man who was like a brother to you stood. Your eyes watering as you finally let him console your broken heart. Wrapping you in a warm hug before he handed you a camera. Straightening as you finally noticed the sweater vest and tweed jacket that had replaced his normal t-shirt and leather combo.

“What’s this?” You said, your fuddled mind not awake enough to understand the meaning of the heavy, black SLR camera that had suddenly appeared in your hands. Dean just looked at you for a little while. As if he was assessing whether or not to tell you what he was planning. But as he noticed the small pinprick of light that had returned to your eyes together with your trust in Sam he straightened himself up. Smiling gently down at you as if he was afraid anything more would break you again.

“We need you out there soldier,” He said a hand going up to pat down your messy hair. “We might have a lead on the next possible victim. And I want you to come with us. Think you’re up for it?”

No. You knew you weren’t up for it. You weren’t even ready to get dressed, facing the world would be too much to handle. But you knew you had to. Sam’s smiling face came into view as you straightened your back and decided to trust in Dean. If he said he needed you, you would go. There couldn’t be any more betrayal happening in the Winchester household. And the two of you needed to stick together to get Sam back where he belonged. In the doorway the new hunter, Garth, stood silently by watching with a smile as he realised you would come along. His hand curling up around what looked like a torn old sock that he quickly hid behind his back when you walked back from the bathroom. After doing the best you could to patch up the open wounds visible on your worn features. Ready to face a world you didn’t want to see, all for the man you loved.

—

The melodious voice of Fiona Apple filled the car as Dean had allowed you to play your own music for once. Probably his way of showing that he was sorry on behalf of his idiotic brother. Her words strengthening your weakened resolve to figure this shit out. To wait patiently for Sam to snap out of whatever mojo it was that was messing with him and come back to you.

Rolling down the window as you headed towards the office building that housed the next possible victim, you closed your eyes and let her words flow over you. Her soft voice soothing your frazzled mind like a cold cloth on fevered skin.

_So be it, I’m your crowbar.  
_ _If that’s what I am so far.  
_ _Until you get out of this mess.  
_ _And I will pretend.  
_ _That I don’t know of your sins.  
_ _Until you are ready to confess.  
_ _But all the time, all the time.  
_ _I’ll know, I’ll know._

Letting her words deepen your determination you straightened the collar of shirt, brushing over the camera that was part of the role you were playing in the investigation. You would be patient. You would believe in his love for you. In those words that he had showered you with every night you spent together. In the smiles you’d shared on slow days. The brief touches hidden by plastic tables at small town diners. You would believe in Sam. You would break him out of this. You would be his crowbar.

You couldn’t smile yet. You couldn’t even think of doing so. But you would shake yourself out of your pity party and you would fight for him. For the two of you… Patiently waiting was one thing. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t lend a helping hand along the way. Catching Dean’s sideways glance at you, you nodded in a gesture of a shared mission. Letting him and Garth fill you in on the details as you drove towards town with a silent hope that you wouldn’t run into Sam. Not just yet at least.

—

Of course you weren’t that lucky. Seriously, sometimes it was hard to even understand how you could still be alive with your amount of bad luck coupled with your chosen profession. Things had started off fine sure. You’d gotten past security and were seated on the small couch in the waiting room of the CEO’s office. Shoulder to shoulder with your fellow “journalists” as you waited for your “audience” with the newly appointed CEO.

Everything was going smoother than what you’d first thought it would. Especially considering you looked a little, worse for wear, than what was normal for the photographer of a small time paper. But just as you’d started to relax, thinking you wouldn’t be so unlucky as to run into Sam things started going down hill again. Watching as the one person you didn’t want to see, yet longed to see at the same time, walked out of the CEO’s office.

“Typical,” Dean muttered under his breath. His shoulders tensing before he got up and automatically shielded you behind his back. Blocking the view of Sam where he thanked the young secretary. But unfortunately his new hunting partner was still in clear view as you tried to focus only on Dean’s tweed covered back. Becky Rosen, taking notes and acting all high and mighty. Like she actually knew what she was doing and what she’d gotten herself into.

“Damn, is that your…” Garth whispered next to you as he quickly stood up looking from Dean to you and back again. In case the poorly veiled pain in your eyes wasn’t enough to drive the point home Dean nodded in front of you, his eyes still burning into his brothers back. “Awkward,” Garth muttered under his breath. The pitying look in his eyes making you realise that you were probably not all that great at hiding the pain that flared up again at the mention of your boyfriend. Well, former boyfriend. The echoes of your alcohol fuelled nights returning with full force as Dean took a step closer to his brother and left you standing weak and abandoned in plain view of both Sam and Becky.

But pain wasn’t the only thing that flooded your heart when you saw him. God, how you missed him… Seeing him standing there, wearing the same usual suit he wore for recon missions and watching as his eyes glanced towards you with long forgotten softness you felt like you could finally breathe again. As if the lack of him in your life had been cutting you off from everything else as well.

“Hi,” Was all Dean said, a hand lifting weakly in a greeting before dropping down to his side again. That was Dean for you; he always knew what to say when the mood got awkward. Always knew how to add that extra little something to make it even worse. The long silence following his words even made the secretary turn to face the five of you in your less than perfect reunion.

Becky shot a glare that was less threatening than a puppy growling towards Dean. Her eyes barely ghosting over you with a smug smile before she walked away. Waiting by the door for her “hubby” to follow her footsteps.

You bit your lip. Determined not to cause any further altercations by decking the woman. Your eyes focusing back on Dean’s back as he tried to break the awkward silence. “Ok, so…” Dean started. But Sam beat him too it, not letting his big brother try to temporarily patch things up between you.

“So, uh, no point in going in there. The guy’s clean. Doesn’t even want the job,” Sam said, his words made it feel as if he was brushing off more than your reason to interrogate the next possible victim. It felt as if he was telling you there were no point to stick around. But you wouldn’t let the words haunt you any longer. Your mind straying back to Fiona Apple, to the promise you made to yourself on the way there as Dean questioned his brother’s words. No, you would believe in Sam.

But you were pushed back into the cruel twisted reality outside the lyrics as Sam answered his brother’s simple “Are you sure” with confident words of his own. “Positive. Becky grilled him, she’s a natural,” The pride in his words stung as you found your eyes glancing towards the waiting woman. Her smug smile growing as she overheard his words before deciding to wait outside. Probably feeling a teeny bit rattled by the silent curses you sent her way.

“Dean, it’s our turn to head in,” You said, your eyes still glued to the door where the newest member of the Winchester family had just ran away from your glared. Your words making Sam aware of your presence as his voice forced you to turn and face him.

“(Y/N)?” Sam said, his voice seeming oddly confused as he looked at you with hints of warmth and pain fighting for dominance in his eyes. The hazel brown eyes you loved not as bright as they normally were once you let yourself truly look at him. Confusion and befuddlement clear on his features as he tried to put two and two together in his head. Had he thought you’d run away? Did he really think you were that weak? Ok, so you kind of, technically, really were… Considering you’d spent the last few days locked inside what was possibly the most gaudy motel room in town. But that was a minor detail; you just got lost on your way back to the straight and narrow path that’s all.

“Hi,” Was all you managed, copying Dean’s brilliant conversational skills as you tried to breathe through the mixed emotions of him noticing you. Any further words dying in the back of your throat as Sam stepped past Dean to stand in front of you. A large hand that you knew from experience could make you feel so warm and safe slowly lifting as he touched your cheek.

“What… How? I… (Y/N),” Sam’s words came out just as mixed up as your own emotions as he looked like he was struggling through something. The pain slowly disappearing as his eyes focused on you. Like he really saw you again. “I missed you,” Was all he managed to say as a carefully smile filled his features, his tone tender, loving even, as he looked into your eyes. As if none of the last few days had happened. As if he didn’t even know what was going on.

But you didn’t mind as you revelled in the deep warm words leaving you. The voice you had missed having directed towards you quickly blowing away all the echoes of his former cold words. Had he snapped out of it? Were you getting your Sam back?

The hope that rose in you as your lips shook, struggling to remember how to smile again, was short lived however. His hand pulling away from your face as Becky appeared in the doorway again. His eyes clouding over as he looked at you once more before you left his mind and the spotlight landed on his new wife again.

“Are you coming honey?” Becky said from the doorway, looking worried as her eyes shifted from you to Sam.

“What? Y-Yeah, uhm… Sorry sweetheart,” Sam mumbled before once more hurrying away from you. Leaving you in the dust with only the slight imprint of his heat against your cold skin. But the memory was there. There had been love in his eyes and you knew it. He still loved you. He missed you. The echoes of his former words died away as you clutched the camera to your chest with newfound determination. Replaced by new words. Words that held a promise… Words that showed that you still had a place in his heart.

Like a track slowly being played over, his words from a few days ago, you struggled to remember how many, were replaced syllable by syllable with the whispered words spoken in the waiting room of a dead man walking. Screw being patient… You wouldn’t stand by and wait. You weren’t a damsel in distress. You could handle this. You could get him back. You were his crowbar, and it was time to break him free.


	3. Crowbar

The meeting was a bust. Well, bust wasn’t technically the right word. It was easy to see who was actually behind the whole sudden promotion. The culprit behind this sudden rise in position was clearly the CEO’s wife. The same woman who had almost brought the poor secretary to tears when you were in the waiting room earlier, right before Sam & Becky’s sudden appearance. But when you cornered the wife of the former salesman turned CEO, she wouldn’t speak. Leaving you having to tail her halfway across town to one of those awful brunches that all the high-class ladies held a day later. Hoping she would meet up with whoever was casting the mojo on her way there, and fearing for her safety at the same time. Sure, she was a class A bitch, but she didn’t deserve to die like the others had. She was your only lead, no other sudden lucky breaks had happened, and no monsters were dropping by to offer you a deal or just to let you know they were in town…

Ok, so maybe during a normal hunt that would’ve been considered progress. At least you had a lead, which was more than you would’ve been able to brag about before the fake interview. But you just wanted your Sam back as soon as physically possible. You needed him back. Even in your slightly improved state of mind everything hurt now that you were doing it without him. The smallest breath stabbed at your chest, forcing the pieces of shrapnel that were your broken heart deeper into your lungs as you tried to stay alive. To keep your weakened heart from giving in to the pain so that you could get him back by your side. Where he belonged.

It hurt to go about the normal everyday things you would do on a case without him. Every fake badge or whispered comment from Dean reminding you of all your little inside jokes… The stakeouts reminding you of how he’d make every boring night of playing watchdog fun by bringing along your favourite snacks and talking to you throughout the night… Making the night pass faster as you cuddled in the backseat of the Impala, ignoring Dean’s groans at the girly behaviour.

You needed him by your side. That much was painfully obvious as you tried not to let your mind stray too far from the hunt in progress. And to do that you needed to know what you were dealing with. Not just who might have made a deal or cast a spell. But who was actually behind it all. The beast wouldn’t die from anything less than a direct hit, and stalking Mrs. I-wanna-be-a-trophy-wife around town was getting you nowhere fast.

—

Watching the overly dramatic woman yell at someone for the umpteenth time on the phone you rolled your eyes. Groaning as you stretched out on the small bench where you were resting whilst she nagged. Almost missing the telltale signs of the light fixture that loosened above her. Your mind still not fully caught up to reality as it dealt with the after-effects of a whiskey diet. You were slower and less attentive than normal. Dean however was already headed towards her, working harder to make up for your numb state. Pushing her out of the way just in time as you set your eyes on the man who was most likely your culprit.

You jumped out of your seat the moment you saw him. Long forgotten reserves of energy surging through your body, you willed it into action and ran towards him. Finally you’d gotten a real break! Gank the baddy and everything should go back to normal. Sprinting you tried your best to catch up to the evil son of a bitch who had no business messing with your romantic life. Your eyes burning into his back as he stayed just outside of your reach, turning a corner just seconds before you. But as you reached the corner he was nowhere to be seen. Gone, vanished into thin air and making you feel like you were slowly losing your mind.

“Fuck!” You groaned, the gasps for breath burning as you were forced, for the first time in what felt like forever, to take deeper breaths. You searched the area thoroughly. But there was no sign of him anywhere. Just a sickening smell of rotten eggs that clued you in to what you could be dealing with. You resisted the temptation of punching the wall. Blaming yourself for loosing him as you straightened your back readying yourself to go back to the waiting hunters.

—-

Turning on your heel to head back around the corner and towards the two guys, you crashed straight into the last person you wanted to see. The last person you wanted to see you fail. The Gods were surely up there somewhere laughing their asses off as they messed with you. Of all people to run into you had to literally crash into the one person who had everything you ever wanted. The one person who just had to exist for your wounds to break open anew and flood you with new feelings of indescribable pain.

Clearly not as steady on her feet as you, Becky fell down from the force of your crash whilst you stayed standing up looking down at her. Though it wasn’t much, just the idea of actually being on higher ground than her pulled at the corners of your mouth. Teasing out a smile for the first time since everything went to hell. For the first time since she aided and abetted in the destruction of your world you felt good. As if your roles had reversed and you were no longer the one who was slowly sinking into oblivion whilst everyone else looked on with slight amusement from above. Trying to wipe the satisfied smirk off your face you kept your tone curt as you spoke. “What are you doing here?”

“Just running some errands. Think you could help a girl up?” Becky said, holding out her hand and showing off the wedding band on her left ring finger. Ignoring the gesture you crossed your arms over your chest, making it clear you had no plans of helping her. Groaning she got herself back up in a manner that was clumsy and uncoordinated for someone who thought they could marry a hunter and live to tell about it. “Sam and I are going on our honeymoon,” The words were meant to sting, and they did, but you didn’t let it show.

“So where is Sam?” Was all you said. Your tone still void of emotion as you did a hell of a good job of not punching her face in. Your hands holding onto your sides you kept your arms folded. Reminding yourself over and over again that hitting an unarmed person when you were at least twice as strong as them was nothing more than abuse of power. Ignoring the tiny voice in the back of your head that insisted she deserved it. That it was technically self-defence against a broken heart. Personally you felt you deserved some sort of award or medal for that feat alone.

“Uhm, he’s home preparing… Look, (Y/N), I know the two of you kinda had something going on…” Becky started. The pity in her eyes disgusting you as you gave her your meanest bitch face. Something? _Something?_ Sam and you had been going out for four years! That was more than just something going on. But you bit back the words. Acting as graciously as you possibly could. Ok so maybe the way you measured her up and down before laughing spitefully wasn’t very lady like, but hey… A girl can’t be a perfect lady all the time right?

“But!” Becky said, her tone rising in agitation at your wordless comeback. The silent threat your eyes held visibly leaving her shaken. “He’s with me now. He loves me. I’m the one he married remember?” Her words sounded more like they were directed inwards than towards you. But she still threw them at you, pushing out her hand to show of the wedding band that snuggled closely to the skin of her ring finger. Hoping to hit you where it hurt.

Yet, what she didn’t know was that you’d been at the bottom of more than one bottle, though hell and back. And you had pulled yourself up, dusted off and you were ready to fight for what was yours. In your grief you might have forgotten the most important things yes… But now that they had found their way back to you it would take more than a few words from Becky to frazzle you. Her words were effectively drowned out by Sam’s image, by the words he’d spoken to you in the waiting room when he temporarily snapped out of his insanity. His “I miss you,” weighed a lot heavier in your mind than her thrusting out her hand at you to show you a piece of metal.

“I believe in Sam,” You stated, letting a confident smile play on your lips. “I trust him. Not you, not whatever is making him like this. I trust the Sam Winchester I love. I trust the nights, the talks, the walks, the kisses, the embraces and the whispered words. But. I. Don’t. Trust. You. Becky Rosen,” You said, making sure to hit her where it hurt like she had tried with you when you mentioned the times you’d shared with the love of your life. You both loved the same man, so you knew where to push to get a reaction. If she’d mentioned things like that instead of just repeating over and over that his status had changed from in a relationship with you to married to her, then maybe you would be buckling over in pain now.

“It’s Rosen-Winchester…” Becky started, her voice weaker as you practically glowed with the love for the man you trusted would come back to you. It wasn’t that you hated Becky. She was mainly harmless and you kind of found the whole lost puppy thing cute. But no one stole your guy and got away with it. She’d brought out some old forgotten feral instinct in you. As if you were a wolf and she was the housebound pet that had somehow strayed into your territory.

“Not for long Becky,” You cut her off before she had a chance to push her married life into your face again. “You better start getting the annulment papers ready. Because Sam Winchester is not your husband,”

“And who’s going to let you…” Becky tried once more to stand up to you as you looked at her with the same stare you normally reserved for the evil that went bump in the night.

“It’s not about who’s going to let me. It’s about who’s going to stop me,” You shot back. Relaxing your glare as you saw how terrified she was. “Look Becky, you’re a great girl, really. But you can’t go messing with people’s emotions. I love him and he loves me,“

“No! He loves me now, and I know him way better than you do!” Becky seemed unwilling to listen to threats or reason as you sighed. Pinching the bridge of your nose you got ready to head back to the boys again. She couldn’t shake your belief in Sam no matter how hard she tried anymore than you could shake her out of her delusional fantasy. Turning on your heel you stopped a few steps away from her, carefully choosing your parting words as you left.

“You’ve read every book right? All of Chuck’s stories?” You asked, already knowing the answer before she nodded smugly. As if the ink on some page made her superior to you when it came to Sam. “That doesn’t mean you know him Becky, you know that right? You don’t know how his eyes sparkle when he finally gets a breakthrough in a case, or how he sings off key to shitty songs in the shower. You don’t know how he traces patterns over my face with his fingers when he thinks I’m sleeping. Or how he always reaches for my hand after a nightmare. You might know of all the big adventures and of his past. But you don’t know the real Sam. The Sam I know,”

Not waiting for an answer you turned. Leaving Becky standing motionless behind you as you hurried back to Dean to find out what had happened whilst you were busy chasing after your possible culprit. It didn’t feel good to hurt her like that. She deserved to be loved. She was a nice girl deep down. But messing with someone’s emotions was not the way to find love. Hoping your talk had at least made her rethink things a little your steps felt a teeny bit lighter than they had earlier. Sam’s words backed up by the possibility that Becky would listen to reason and let him go.

—

“Did you kill the son of a bitch?” Dean asked the minute you jogged up beside him. Eyes filled with hope as he begged you to tell him the whole nightmare was over already. Your lighter steps convincing him you got your man. 

“No he split before I had the chance to. Any idea what he is?” You asked, falling into step next to Dean. Grimacing a little as a sign of an apology when Dean’s face fell. Dean cursed under his breath before he gave you the details. Retelling what the high-society woman had suddenly become oh so willing to share with you. You were dealing with a crossroads demon after all, just as you’d suspected from the smell of sulphur in the air. Just one that didn’t like to play by the book… Listening to Dean’s explanation you slid into the passenger seat of the Impala with renewed vigour when you finally reached the parking space you’d secured a few blocks away. You’d had your chance to vent at bridezilla and you were closing in on the bad guy. Things were looking up…

“We might not know exactly who he is, but we definitely know who he’s after next,” Dean said, his words needing no further explanation as you hurried toward Becky’s apartment. Garth nodding along in the backseat as he connected the puzzle pieces… They had all died around a week after their deal. Which meant Becky was most likely the next victim. Pushing the thought of a crossroads demon’s deals being final out of your mind, you focused on the road ahead. Ready to end this once and for all. Hoping that you could somehow remove the deal at the same time.

—

“No one’s home,” Garth said, stating the obvious as the three of you filed into Becky’s empty apartment.

“Now that I think about it, she did say something about a honeymoon. They must’ve left before we got here,” You frowned. Placing the wedding photo of her and Sam facedown on the table as you passed it.

“Wait, what?” Dean said over his shoulder as he ventured further into the apartment over to where Garth was confirming your words via her still open twitter feed. “You’re not cyber stalking her are you?”

“No Dean. God no,” You said, stopping to shudder a little at the thought of sinking that low. “I met her in town. Gave her a tiny piece of my mind whilst I was at it,”

“Shit… (Y/N), you didn’t… _Hit_ her did you?” Dean said, his eyes widening as he connected your improved mood to your words. His facial expression somewhere between hope and fear, as if he didn’t know how he’d feel about it if you’d actually punched her lights out.

“Relax Dean, I acted like a good little hunter. We just, talked, for a while that’s all,” You said sighing at the accusation. “I might have reminded her a little of how Sam loves me and not her, told her I’m gonna steal him back. But I didn’t get violent,”

“All right, that’s for the best I guess,” Dean said with a nod. A mix of relief and disappointment flooding his eyes, he reached for a framed picture on the tidy desk. “Maybe she’ll come to her senses when she realises how much you believe in Sammy,” He continued before quickly showing you the picture as he pried the back of the frame off.

“Either way I’m guessing we’re going fishing?” You said nodding towards the small cabin in the picture. A young Becky standing between what was most likely Mr & Mrs Rosen, holding up a small fish proudly smiling back at you from the glossy paper.

“Yeah, this is as good a guess as any… Let’s head out straight away,” Dean said, pocketing the picture as Garth shuddered next to him. Muttering something about not liking fish. You sent the new guy a quizzical look as you took in the room one last time. Hoping to spot some obvious clues lying around. Before you nodded in agreement with Dean and followed the hunters out of the apartment, hoping you’d never have to go back there again.

Soon you’d get your boyfriend back. But until then you just had to be patient for a little while longer. Well, as patient as gate crashing their honeymoon allowed you to be at least.

—

The sight of the half naked, hogtied hunter on the bed once you entered the cabin had caused Dean to double over in laughter the minute you were in the door. You however didn’t really see the humour in the scene. Your eyes hazy with angry tears as you reached for your gun on instinct. You wouldn’t shoot her, but she seemed to really be looking for a good pistol whipping. This wasn’t love, or anything like it. It was kidnapping! Rushing over to where Becky was holding a vial of some nasty looking purple stuff you’d almost kicked the living crap out of her before Sam’s words pulled you back to reality.

“(Y/N)! Baby, it’s ok,” The achingly familiar nickname brought you back to your senses as you lowered your raised fist from the flinching woman in front of you. Nails digging into soft skin you kept yourself in check before looking over at Sam again. Afraid to see his eyes turned towards Becky instead of you. His words twisting in your mind and taking on new meaning… Maybe he’d only called your name, then turned to soothe his frightened wife? But as your eyes landed on the bound man you managed to calm down enough to relax your curled up fingers. His eyes were still on yours as he continued to speak. “She was just about to release me,”

“Y-you’re back?” You asked cautiously. Afraid to get your hopes up too much in case this was some awful bondage situation instead of what it looked like. Afraid that he was just trying to calm you down with his words and diffuse an awkward situation. “You’re really you again?”

“I’m so sorry (Y/N). I… We’ll set this entire mess straight after we kill the son of a bitch. Sign the annulment papers and all that stuff. It’s you I want. If you’ll have me,” Sam’s words released a breath inside you that you didn’t know you’d been holding as you ran over to him. Tearing at his constraints so that you could feel his arms around you once more. But once he was loose Sam didn’t reach for you, his eyes resting on yours with hesitation shining through the soft hazel colour. “You don’t hate me?” His voice was weak as he spoke. Fearing the possible consequences of a situation that was out of his control.

Pushing your lips to his instead of answering, he eagerly responded to your hungry kiss. God how you missed that… The way his hands would slowly rest in their familiar spots. One hand on your neck pulling you closer as the other softly ran down your body so that he could wrap an arm around your waist. Forgetting about the world for a while you drowned yourself in his kiss. Happy that you could finally put the hellish incident behind you… Well once you kicked some serious demon ass at least. Breaking the kiss reluctantly, as Dean cleared his throat behind you, you leaned your forehead against Sam’s.

“I could never hate you Sam. I trust your feelings for me. I just waited for you to come back to me is all,” You whispered, giving his lips a quick peck before pulling away and facing the two hunters and Becky again. Your hand reached for his to feel his warmth, to ensure yourself that all of this was in fact real. You couldn’t stand the thought of being separated from him again. Not even for a moment. And as he squeezed your hand in his larger one you realised he felt the same way. Your mind bubbling over with the euphoria of returned, mutual love once more. Dean’s relieved smile telling you that your eyes sparkled with it as well as you thanked him silently for pulling you through the last few days.

Your eyes strayed towards Sam for a second as he released your hand. A small inkling of the same all too familiar pain returning until he smiled at you. “Just need my pants,” He explained. Your shoulders tensing as you feared the worst once more. Reading the fears in your eyes Sam hurriedly explained that nothing had happened, promising you that Becky hadn’t done anything other than remove his pants. Making it very clear that their relationship had been as platonic as you’d somewhat hoped it would be. Your heart couldn’t have handled it if anything above E for Everything rating standards had happened between them. The thought of your boyfriend with someone else making you wince in pain and feel sick simultaneously. Sighing in relief you let him find his pants as you turned towards the two hunters and the soon to be divorced Mrs. Rosen-Winchester.

Becky’s eyes were shut tight as she shielded herself from your reunion. You felt a small pang of guilt for the sudden PDA. You knew how much it hurt to see the person you loved in the arms of someone else. And it wasn’t something you owed your worst enemy. But you also knew she wouldn’t want any words of apology or pity from you right now. So pulling your eyes away from the girl whose heart you’d broken with your reunion kiss, you faced Dean and Garth. Smiling as Sam’s arm wrapped around your waist once he found his pants again.

The safe secure arm around your waist holding promises of a future you’d thought was lost to you as you leaned against him. You knew he’d blame himself for this, but you also knew that you could get through it together. Your heart needed time to mend itself, and he needed to understand that it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t even really Becky’s fault. You just had to stay by his side and remind him of that until he believed you. That, and kill and possibly torture the bastard who actually was at fault in this whole mess.

“So what’s the plan? And please, _please_ say that I get to be the one to gank the bastard,” You asked. Your hand snaking around your boyfriends waist, holding him close so that you wouldn’t lose him again. It would take time to bring him back to the same Sam you fell in love with. His hugs were weaker and his eyes hesitant as he fooled himself into believing he wasn’t good enough for you anymore. But you would be patient. You were his crowbar, and you would break him out of that stream of guilty thoughts too.


End file.
